


Shattered

by Styx88



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Injury, But Non-Graphic Description, Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Child Abuse, Daddy Prauf, Drowning, Father Figures, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt Cal Kestis, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Planet Bracca (Star Wars), Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order, Psychometry, Scars, Sickfic, Star Wars References, Tears, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29938065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styx88/pseuds/Styx88
Summary: "The sound of rain.This was the first thing of which Cal became aware while still huddled in his seat, clutching his master's lightsaber in his two sweaty hands when he came to his senses after the crash of the escape pod to which he owed his life."How to survive after the Purge when you are a Padawan lost on an unfamiliar planet? Cal Kestis tries as best he can to hide, but the fate – the Force? – seems to have turned against him.A fanfiction about Cal's youth on Bracca, full of blood and tears, but also of love and friendship. Come for the hurt, stay for the comfort! Poor little lost Padawan.
Relationships: Cal Kestis & Prauf
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Brisé](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29937981) by [Styx88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styx88/pseuds/Styx88). 



> I warn you at once: you are entering here into the temple of hurt/comfort. If you don't like this kind of fic, go on your way. Otherwise, welcome aboard and enjoy the trip!
> 
> /!\ Warning: This fanfiction contains elements that may offend the sensibilities of some readers. I recommend that you read the tags carefully. A warning will be written at the beginning of the chapters in question.

The sound of rain.

This was the first thing of which Cal became aware while still huddled in his seat, clutching his master's lightsaber in his two sweaty hands when he came to his senses after the crash of the escape pod to which he owed his life. With his eyes still closed from having screamed and cried so much, he tried to focus on that soothing sound.

The rain.

It was often seen by the clones as a blessing after the battles. It cleansed the air of the smells of smoke, blood and death. It washed the soil of the disasters of the war.

The clones.

Cal still couldn't believe it. He still didn't _understand_ it. How? Why? Why did their men betray them? He thought about the clones of the 13th Battalion with whom he had shared so much over the past few months – discussions, training, and games. He thought about the clones of whom he knew almost all the names – Dry, Bumper, Chaz, Pip, Firework… Why did their allies – almost friends for him who had no companions his own age to share his joys and sorrows on the Venator where he served – turn their weapons on him and his master?

His master.

Cal still didn't dare open his eyes, and he knew very well why. He didn't want to see him. He didn't want to face his... failure. Yes. He had to admit it. He had failed. He hadn't been strong enough. Not brave enough. And now because of him his master was—

The rain. Yes, that's right, he had to focus on the rain.

He heard the sweet melody of the drops gently drumming on the metal hull of the pod, echoing in the air as footsteps echoed through the vast corridors of the Jedi Temple.

At this thought, Cal's mind began to wander. He was no longer in an escape pod crashed on the ground of a dump-planet. No, he was in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, walking around the corridors with huge windows filled with warm, golden light, listening absent-mindedly to the muffled voices of the Masters who taught the apprentices behind the heavy steel doors.

The footsteps of his reverie led him to the Temple gardens. There he felt the warm breeze waving his hair and the sun gently warming his skin. He smelled the scent of flowers mixed with the smells of the city brought by the wind. He heard the melodious song of birds and the soothing lapping of fountains.

Suddenly, he heard another sound in the distance. A thud. Like an impending thunderstorm. He looked up at the cloudless sky. It was not normal. He frowned, trying to understand from where that noise was coming. That was when he realized that there were no fountains in the gardens where he was. So, where did that sound of water come from?

A louder rumbling resounded, shaking the walls of the pod. Cal jumped up and suddenly came out of the meditation in which he had dived without realizing it, finally opening his eyes. The Temple's beautiful gardens vanished, giving way to the cold metal walls and flashing red lights of the escape pod.

Unwittingly, his eyes immediately fell on the body of Master Tapal. The shock of the landing had sent the corpse flying through the air, letting it fall back in a grotesque heap on the ground. Frightened by this sight, by what was now left of the great Lasat who had been his master, Cal quickly lowered his gaze and stifled a sob while tears streamed from his eyes, dripping one by one on his lap, soon forming two wet spots on the light-colored fabric of his Padawan pants.

The rumblings were now louder and louder and closer and closer together. The storm must have been right above him. A sudden crack made him startle, putting an abrupt end to his mourning. He stood there for a long time, huddled in his seat, listening to the storm, shivering with fear and cold, wondering what would happen if a lightning bolt struck the pod.

Another rumbling – a weaker one – was also suddenly heard. The rumbling of his stomach. Cal knew he couldn't stay here forever – unless he wanted to die of hunger and thirst. He knew that he would have to get out of here when the downpour was over.

Speaking of downpour, Cal realized that the rain had stopped. The storm seemed to be moving away – he was going to be able to get out.

Holding back his tears, Cal gathered all his strength and courage – a task far more difficult than using the Force – and began to stand up. First, he unclenched his fingers, his knuckles blanched from having squeezed Master Tapal's lightsaber so tightly, and he gently lifted his head, trying to ignore his neck wound – it was hurting him, but this was not the time to worry about it. Then he stretched out his legs, numb from staying in the same position for so long, and he put both feet on the ground. Finally, he stood up slowly before moving with a wobbly step towards the pod door. The durasteel was creaking and squeaking under his boots.

When he arrived in front of the door, he activated the opening command. However, the crash must have damaged the spacecraft, and the door only opened slightly, leaving Cal not enough room for him to get through. A ray of light passed through the opening, suddenly making his desire to get out of this pod, where there was a floating smell of death, more urgent.

He tried to use the Force to force the opening, but he felt nothing. Nothing but a feeling of cold and emptiness. He felt a lump in his throat as his mind tried to fight off the panic that was attempting to invade his heart. What was going on? Why couldn't he do it? His legs wobbled, and he leaned one hand against the wall when the explanation jumped out at him. He probably must have used all his energy to defend himself and slow down the clones up there on the Venator – yes, that's it, he was just too tired.

He put his master's lightsaber on the floor and slipped his fingers through the small gap to try to open the door with his bare hands. He had to struggle with all his strength to move the door, pulling and pushing with all his remaining energy, making it slide in a long, blood-curdling, strident whining, until he cleared a gap wide enough to allow him to slip out.

A gust of cold wind rushed into the pod, causing Cal to take a step backwards and forcing him to squint his eyes. He looked through the opening to the unknown landscape that extended in front of him.

It was daylight, but the dark clouds that obscured the sky gave the impression that it was evening. He had probably landed in what looked like an old abandoned scrapyard – one of the many scrapyards that covered Bracca's muddy ground. Even though the rain had stopped, the storm continued, illuminating the surroundings with flashes of harsh white light, making the scrapyard seem like it was straight out of a horror holovid.

All around him, rusty carcasses of half-destroyed ships piled up on top of each other. The scrappers had been looting these ships for a long time, dismantling and salvaging anything of any value. As a result, there was not a soul around to help him.

He didn't know whether it was only their ship that had been affected by this tragedy, whether it was only their clones that had lost their minds, or whether the entire Republic was concerned.

_Trust only in the Force._

This sentence – the last words of his master – was playing on a loop in his head, painfully aching his heart. Yes. His master was right. When in doubt, it was better not to be noticed. Maybe it was finally better that no one was around – the fewer witnesses, the better Cal's chances of getting out alive.

Reality came back to him once again. He shivered. He didn't know if it was from cold or worry. Probably both.

In the distance he seemed to see warm, colorful lights – a city. He would surely find something to eat there.

He was about to run out of the pod when he changed his mind – he couldn't go like that. Everything in his appearance was screaming 'Jedi', and his instinct told him that he had to be discreet.

He took a moment to think about what he could do to hide his presence on Bracca. He had to disguise himself, but he also had to make the marks of his arrival disappear – if someone found the intact pod, with the door open, it would be understood that he had made it out.

Cal looked at the huge body of his master, which had not moved an inch since their hard landing. He bit his lips. He couldn't leave him like that. He respected – he loved – Jaro Tapal too much to let him end up like that, dead on the cold floor of an escape pod without having received the honors due to his rank. Traditionally, the Jedi would cremate their dead. How was Cal going to make a fire under such conditions? Besides, he couldn't even move the body – it was far too big and heavy for a weakling like him.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind. Yes. Yes, this is what he was going to do.

Determined, he picked up the lightsaber that his master had given him just before he died and ignited it. The hot, blue blade vibrated in the dark, creating swirls of steam on contact with the cold, damp air. The feeling of the heavy metal hilt in his hand gave him back some courage. It was reassuring to know that he had a weapon to defend himself.

With the blade, he cut his Padawan's braid cleanly and dropped it on the floor of the pod before deactivating the lightsaber. He then removed the upper layer of his clothing, keeping only the lower layers, so a pair of pants and a tunic of solid cream-colored cloth, as well as his leather boots and belt. However, he kept one of the strips of brown cloth that covered his shoulders and chest, and he wrapped his master's lightsaber in it.

Lastly, he walked to the pod's controls. He spent a few minutes trying to figure out how the various buttons and levers worked, as the flashing diodes on the dashboard intermittently illuminated his terrified face with a scarlet light. When he finally found what he was looking for – the pod's self-destruct command – he swallowed hard, and after a short hesitation he pressed the big red button, starting the fateful countdown before turning around and running hastily towards the exit.

However, in his haste he had forgotten one essential point: the mud. Barely a foot on the wet ground of Bracca, he slipped and fell flat on his face into the thick muddy layer that covered it. His brain suddenly went into 'panic' mode. Deprived of all thought, he crawled as far away from the pod as possible, his hand still tightly clutched on his master's lightsaber until he heard the end of the countdown. Still lying in the mud, he curled up behind a rock and instinctively covered his head with his two arms to protect himself from the explosion.

However, the explosion he feared was far less than he expected – no loud 'boom', no sparks, no pieces of hull flying all around. No, Cal just heard a muffled crack, and when he turned around he saw the flames greedily devouring the durasteel of the pod – and what was left of Jaro Tapal.

Cal stood up and watched the sad spectacle. All that was left of his past life was going up in smoke before his eyes. He felt the tears make two trails in the mud that covered his cheeks.

"Goodbye, Master," he whispered in a voice hoarse with tears. "I'm sorry."

Smothering a sob, running his hand over his wet eyes and snotty nose, he severely admonished himself for this weakness unworthy of a Jedi before turning away from the blaze. He had neither the courage nor the time to make a speech. The fire has a good chance to attract curious people – even though they might see only an old burnt carcass that had, in all likelihood, been struck by lightning, as it must happen regularly on Bracca.

Now that he had destroyed the evidence of his survival, there was only one thing left to do: Cal had to deal with his master's lightsaber. He didn't want to risk being caught with it – it was longer than his thigh and too big for him to hope to hide it on him. However, he might need it in the future – you never know. Better to keep it hidden somewhere until… until he didn't even know what.

He decided that the big rock behind which he had taken refuge would make a good landmark when he came to retrieve the weapon. He knelt down in front of the rock and started digging the ground with his hands – the only tool he had at his disposal. Luckily the ground was soggy from the rain, which made it easier to dig. When he reached an acceptable depth, he placed the lightsaber still wrapped in the brown cloth to protect it at the bottom of the hole and covered it with earth until it was no longer noticeable that the ground had been moved.

Cal stood up and rubbed his hands together to remove the wet dirt that was stuck to it. Tired from all the emotions that overwhelmed him and from all the efforts he had just made, he felt the ground rocking under his feet. He staggered for a short moment. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, as if each exhalation could dispel the fear that was knotting his stomach and each inhalation could fill him with confidence and serenity.

When he opened his eyes, he felt no more reassured than before. He swallowed hard, and after taking one last look at the burning pod, he ran away towards the city and its lights shining like hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to those who follow me and to all the others for coming to take a look at this new fanfic. I'm sorry I took so long to write this fic. I hope you like it!
> 
> As usual, feel free to leave a kudo or a comment!


End file.
